Warmth
by who tf knows
Summary: Nezumi now knows how warm humans can be, and he's not going to let that go again.
Heyo!

So I was sent the prompt 'sleepy nezumi waking up next to shion' on tumblr ( .com shameless promo) and there's more angst than was asked for but it's 12:43 am oh well

Warnings: unedited

Disclaimer: I don't own No.6 ^u^

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For the first twelve years of his life, Nezumi hadn't know the warmth of the human body.

True, there was Gran and what he could remember of the Forest People, but it wasn't warmth he felt from them. The Forest People lived by and for Elyurias, and his memories from back then were just that one song and _burning_. Gran was full of bitterness and hate - she only spoke in rasping hatred and revenge plans.

He remembers the night he escaped from the Correctional Facility with a clarity that he never wants to loose. He remembers the hopelessness, the utter _despair_ he felt as he climbed through the tunnels with a numb mind and one intention: to survive.

He remembers the wind that tore through him and the rain that battered him, but most of all he remembers _that voice._ Shion. Yelling from a balcony with all his small body could muster, clearing away Nezumi's anguish and even going so far as to make him hot chocolate.

That night, as he laid down with Shion, their hands grasped together, Nezumi felt as if his very core was being warmed from the mere proximity of what he found to be the human embodiment of kindness. It was the first time he felt safe.

They had shared a bed many times since then, huddled under a threadbare blanket in the West Block. Shion had a habit of abandoning the pillow for the crook of Nezumi's neck and Nezumi found that it was far too easy to wake up to the mop of soft white hair pressed against his cheek.

The faux tranquility the two had created was strained. They were almost hyper-aware of the dangers they faced - No. 6. The wasps. Shion's naivety in a place like the West Block. - but it was almost okay, because he woke up to the warmth of Shion practically lying on top of him and the small noises he made in his sleep.

When Nezumi went away, after everything, that was the worst part. The cold nights where he found himself wistful for their one-room library and the bed so small they couldn't help but tangle themselves together.

Those two years worth of cold nights - even if he had found himself a bed he was cold and it was getting _frustrating -_ were even worse than the four he spent alone after meeting Shion. Back then, he had spent a couple of hours holding a kind stranger's hand, but having experienced falling asleep next to him, waking up beside him and those strange whispered conversations at ungodly hours of the morning ("do you think the rats understand Shakespeare Nezumi? What if they could put on a play?")- having experienced _Shion,_ being away made him feel - he was such a _sap_ what the _hell_ had Shion done to him - empty.

The first words he spoke to Shion in two years were "I'm sorry I lied about the goodbye kiss."

Shion visibly jumped, and then turned around, staring up at Nezumi with wide eyes. "Yes, it was quite hypocritical of you."

They had talked well into the night and fell asleep on the same bed, despite Karen telling Shion to set up the guest bedroom.

Which is where Nezumi found himself right now - early morning sun streaming in through the window, casting a bright yellow glow on the warm surroundings. Shion was fast asleep on his collarbone and Nezumi could only see the mess of chalk-white hair, blacklit by the sunrise. His pink scar ran alluringly down his spine and Nezumi could feel soft breath against his neck.

He brought an arm up to hold Shion's small frame, unconsciously caressing the pale skin underneath his sleeve. Nezumi pulled back slightly and stared at Shion, enjoying the sense of serenity in the small room. The smell of freshly baked pastries wafted up from downstairs and he smiled at how different everything was since he and Shion were last in this position.

It was hard to believe he was here at all. Him; the sole survivor of the Forest People, the wanted criminal, West Block resident, was lying in bed, perfectly vulnerable but hardly caring as he stared at the person opposite him, overwhelming emotions expanding in his chest.

A smile grew from the corner of his lips as he drew Shion closer to him and closed his eyes. He was enjoying this too much and he knew it, but it didn't matter. Nezumi leant his head down so Shion's hair brushed his cheek and succumbed himself to the peacefulness of the sunny morning.

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I kinda feel like that was too short. I probably could have done more with it.

Anyway thanks for reading and if you have a prompt you'd like me to try out I'd love to hear it!


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